Arctic White


He was the white wolf. Yermalov knew that it meant that he was destined to see a lot of death. It had not surprised him when he heard that his village was about to be marched on. The wolf had howled inside. Yermalov sighed. This was a village, not an army, and he was no god. Yermalov had transformed into a wolf the day his family was killed. They were not like him and they would not brave the forests, even with him. He ran for the trees and shifted. The wolf engulfed him. He spent most of the winter in the woods. Yermalov easily found enough food for himself and the wolf needed no warmth. He did drop a few rabbits for a few stray villagers he came across. Upon finding men in the same uniform as the ones that attacked his village, the wolf sprang before he'd even had a thought. Their blood stained the snow as their throats gave way to his jaws. Yermalov nearly shifted back. Then again, the boy would have wanted to kill them anyway. The wolf was simply more able. Yermalov knew that his months as a wolf would shave years off of his life.

Upon arriving at a major city, he shifted back and stared at his reflection. The man he turned into bore very little resemblance to the boy that had left the village. He had lost perhaps five or six years. It did not matter anyway. Yermalov had his older brother's identification papers. He burned his on the river bed as the sun rose. The mayor's office seemed nervous around him. They didn't seem to quite know what to do with the few stragglers left from his village. Yermalov sighed and paced the room. "Perhaps the army for myself?"

Color returned to the man's face. "Ah, yes, you still need to do your mandatory service. Not to worry, we will find jobs for everyone."

It was then that Yermalov realized that the attack was an embarrassment to the government. The wolf did not care about such things. He supposed it was a delicate balance of cover-up and not eradicating more civilians than necessary. This was the nearest small city, after all. Yermalov was then issued a pitiable amount for the deaths of his family. As it was in Soviet Russia. He was then issued a house and given an address to show up to for his testing to enter the military. Yermalov was fairly certain he'd pass the physical.

The Soviet-issued apartment was bare and functional. He was not part of the wealthy ruling class. Yermalov had no personal possessions, for the wolf could carry next to nothing. He also had gotten several changes of clothes as part of the death compensation. The wolf stirred as he shut the doors. Yermalov didn't much like the building. It was far from his family's cozy cabin. This was cold steel and bare walls. Yermalov sighed as he examined the room. His sense of smell was permanently enhanced. It was not a benefit in the city. The river stank like hell. It was probably the manufacturing chemicals and waste being dumped there. The man sighed as he looked in the mirror and began to shave. He'd barely had a beard or muscles the last time he'd been a human. Yermalov took a few minutes to get used to his new form before carefully drawing the razor along his face. It was not his face that stared back at him. It was his brother's. Yermalov shuddered slightly. The only difference was the eyes. His were tinged with the wolf's yellow, even now. Yermalov placed the razor down with slightly more force than necessary. The yellow would fade, much like everything else. He rubbed his face. It felt wrong in his hands.

Yermalov awoke as a human for the first time in months. He opened the pantry to his government-issued grain. Ah, well, at least this wasn't half-eaten by rodents. His village had never gotten the best of anything. Though, he would have preferred that his mother still be alive to prepare it. He sighed and began to start up the stove. It was gas instead of wood. That meant it would probably cook faster. He began to slowly make his grain. The butter and sugar looked pretty grim. Yermalov heard a knocking at the door. His hand turned into a massive paw as he slid the lock out of its latch. Yermalov relaxed slightly as he answered the door to an old woman. "Welcome to the neighborhood!"

She was holding a small plate of cookies. Yermalov suppressed his sigh of relief. "Please come in."

Even if she did report to the KGB, there was no reason to be rude. Yermalov offered her some tea. "I can't spice it like I'm used to but the taste should still be fine."

The woman accepted the tea with both hands. Yermalov stretched out in his chair. "I heard you were reporting to the office."

A KGB plant, then. Probably watching the whole apartment. "Ah, yes. They said to report in the afternoon."

She stirred her tea. Yermalov knew that his accent was heavily rural. "You're in from one of the villages, then?"

He mentally let out a sigh. "Yes. One of the ones on the border."

The mayor had heavily implied that this was a more appropriate answer than the real one. The old woman gently patted his hand. "I'm sorry for your loss."

She lingered for a few minutes longer with various social niceties before she departed. Yermalov knew then that he had passed whatever test they had set for him. It was nearly time for him to head to the office, anyhow.

The cold of the river bit into him, even with the coat. Yermalov missed having fur. It was probably for the best that he was no longer a wolf at the moment. His aging would have continued at the pace of the other mammal, rather than having a human lifespan. He followed the directions given on the paper. Three soft knocks had the door unceremoniously yanked open. The man who greeted him seemed rather short. Yermalov wondered how tall he was. "Good! You made it!"

He wondered how many people had gotten lost. His eyes were fading to a pale blue. Yermalov followed the man in for a physical. The doctor seemed harried. "Fifty sexually transmitted diseases. Fifty."

Yermalov wasn't much of a believer in religion but he had been brought up in a religious household. It would probably come in handy. "No risk of that. I am a strict member of the Russian Orthodoxy."

The Doctor nodded and began his examination. Yermalov felt his pulse begin to pound. He prayed that what had remained of the wolf had faded enough to not be completely obvious. The doctor sighed. "Nothing wrong. Your eyes are an unusual color but that might be a diet issue."

Yermalov shrugged. The aide stared. "Nothing?! No malnutrition? No diseases?"

The Doctor glared at him. "The prevalence is classified information. And, yes, he is ready for service currently."

The man wilted underneath the look he got. Yermalov didn't blame him. "On with the exams."

He sighed and got dressed. Thankfully, none of the rabbits had given him any diseases.

Yermalov was given a set of reasonably decent and normal-looking exams that were rather headache-inducing. The rifle assembly he could pass in his sleep. He had been one of the better ones in his village, even at the age of fourteen. The math slowly sank into topics he was fairly certain he'd never seen before in his life. Not even on his brother's books. There was Morse code and a few other math problems with shapes. He supposed he passed those reasonably well. The assistant still appeared to be palpably excited. Yermalov supposed it was because he could do his job for once instead of waiting for people to be cured of various ailments before joining the army. Yermalov sighed as he was allowed to break for a rather plain dinner. The doctor was also seated at the table. "So, you have two options. One, you go to the service as planned. Two, you join the service under a man named Zeljan Kurst and move to a different part of Yugoslavia."

Yermalov nodded. That sounded…intriguing. "The second one is to be kept quiet."

He bit into his steak. It was probably the first one he'd had in years, if ever. "I think I would like the second one."

The man nodded. Yermalov was fairly certain this was going to be brutal. "Your papers will arrive in the morning. Everything will be made ready."


Fin


Based on a prompt by Zyzyax (see story summary). This is the 67th work in the Winds of Change 2022 Alex Rider Prompt event, where a new prompt (plus a short 1-3K work) is posted every day. For more details, see the AO3 collection :) Want to discuss? Leave a comment beneath, or join the discord (Link on AO3 Fics or just PM me, lol). Want to take part in our Alex Rider anniversary celebrations in September? Join the WoC discord to take part in a fanfic event!